


A Selfless Act

by ChrisHemsworthsWifey



Series: A Selfish Act Can Sometimes Be Selfless [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Arkenstone - Freeform, F/M, Feels, Finally!, Happy Ending, I do what I want, M/M, The One Ring - Freeform, Timeline?, all the feels, i love the dwarves, save Bilbo!, so they all have a speaking part, what timeline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-14 22:01:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14145510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChrisHemsworthsWifey/pseuds/ChrisHemsworthsWifey
Summary: Bilbo Baggins died a gruesome death due to a selfish act, but Thorin and the company aren't going to stand for it. Especially Thorin, who is willing to face down Yavanna, Mahal, Thranduil, and more to get him back. He already failed his One once, and he refuses to do it again.





	A Selfless Act

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's finally here!  
> I'm gonna fix it!  
> Enjoy y'all!

Thorin had felt many things in his life, such as exhaustion, hunger, being cheated, blessed, loved, happiness, and many more things. But never in his life had Thorin ever felt so much heartache, so much loss, and so much anger. Not when he had been kicked out of his home with all his people, not when he saw the elves abandon them, not when he found out his mother died in the mountain, not when lost his grandfather, his father, or his brother.  
His eyes burned as they filled with tears that continued to fall almost nonstop, and his throat felt wrecked with his sobs. Thorin couldn't help it. He wept aloud for the life of his ghivashel that had been taken from him, after he had barely been given it back.  
  
_This isn’t right. He shouldn’t be dead. He can’t be dead!_  
  
Thorin didn’t know how long he wept over Bilbo’s body, barely hearing the answering trumps from the horns in Dale and Erebor over his harsh breaths. The two kingdoms sounded in reply to the mourning tune that Leolaín had played, answering back to the call of the important person who had fallen, before playing haunting tunes for the fallen that littered the battlefield.  
Thorin’s throat felt like goblins had scratched the insides of it, almost making it hurt to even breath, but that didn’t stop him as he continued to weep over the body of his One. How could he think of anything but his One at a time like this? When he laid, dead, in his arms. The very thought brought his tears back anew, and they fell with a vengeance, as if they had a goal to create a pool around him, and physically drown himself in his sorrows.  
The scuffles and shouts of familiar voices coming over the rocks caught his attention, and he quickly raised a hand to wipe at his eyes.  
  
"Bofur, you git. Wait for me!" came Nori’s cry over the horns.  
  
"We can save 'em!" was Óin’s voice, and then like a wave, the rest of the company’s voices hit him as one.  
  
"Let's go, lads!" Dori.  
  
"Dwalin! DWALIN!" Ori.  
  
"Thorin! Dwalin! Fíli! Kíli!" Balin.  
  
"Come on!" Bombur.  
  
"Deep breathing. That's the key!!" Glóin.  
  
"Bilbo! Bilbo, where are you?!" Bofur.  
  
Thorin’s gaze was fixed across the lake where the voices seemed to come from, and he watched as his nine friends came into view. They all abruptly stopped, running into one another as they took in what Thorin could only guess was a pathetic sight. Him, looming over the dead body of Bilbo, doing nothing to help him because he was the most useless dwarf in all of Middle Earth.  
There was a small gasp that had Thorin looking back up at them, though he did not remember looking back down at his hobbit, and he took in the sight of his company. All of his companions had some minor injuries visible to the eye, and Thorin knew there had to be a few major internal injuries with the way Dori held onto his arm or the way Bifur grabbed his middle; but they had trekked the hike up to them at the call of the horn.  
Bofur was pale in the face, eyes only on Bilbo who still laid there, too still. Thorin could only watch as the miner slowly began to walk up to them, Nori and the others close behind. Tears of disbelief and looks of sadness were in all of their eyes, and Thorin tried in vain to keep his stoic appearance for his friends, to be the strong leader like he was supposed to be, and had been, on their journey.  
  
_You were the best leader because of the person who had stood beside you on this journey. Because of Bilbo._  
  
Thorin couldn't help it as a sob, which had been choking him, managed to crawl its way out of his throat. It was that small sob that seemed to break many in his company, as some began to break down in tears as well, all of them mourning along with Thorin for the life of their friend; and it dawned on him that Bilbo had indeed become good friends with all of them. The hobbit had managed to become such good friends, with all of them, even after the manner they had all treated him at the beginning of their adventure. Bilbo Baggins had worked his way into all of their hearts.  
Bilbo had been the one to stand the numerous stories from Glóin about his wife and son, some of the stories the dwarf was so fond of telling, that he had told them on numerous occasions; but Bilbo had not cared and laughed just as heartily and listened just as intently as if it were the first time he was hearing them.  
With Óin, Bilbo discussed different healing plants, had always been patient with him and his hard of hearing, and had not been angry when Óin played a trick pretending not to have heard him for almost five minutes. In fact, he had laughed.  
Bilbo would always be the first to offer his help to Bombur with the meals where they shared tips, recipes, and stories.  
Bilbo had discussed dwarven mythology with Dori and Balin, who had been delighted to share their knowledge with a new pupil.  
Bilbo had had many conversations with Bifur, and Bifur had said, many a time, how they were the highlights of his day.  
Bilbo and Ori had gotten along after they had shared their love of literature, and Ori had promised to not explore the Ereborian libraries without Bilbo.  
Bilbo had Nori help him learn some pickpocketing tricks, which the dwarf was only too happy to help him with. And then, there was Bofur.  
Bofur had been the first one to fully except Bilbo as a member of the company, almost the moment they met, and they had been good friends since. Thorin even remembered being extremely jealous of the dwarf at Beorn’s, before realizing that Bilbo was in fact helping the other dwarf talk to Nori, who was his One. Thorin had felt ashamed afterwards, but he had been convinced that the hat wearing dwarf was out to steal the hobbit for himself. It wasn’t until Lake Town, where Bilbo and himself had shared their fondness-their love for each other, that Thorin had felt at ease.  
  
_He loved me . . . ._  
  
Balin was the first to reach him, gently patting Thorin’s shoulder with tears streaming into his beard, before he moved on to his nephews, enveloping them into a hug. Bombur, Bifur, Dori, Gloín, and Oín came up and kneeled in front of Bilbo as a sign of respect, then also made their way to the side by the others, sniffling as they went. Ori, crying, ran straight to Dwalin who wrapped his arms around the tiny librarian and sighed in relief when he had his beloved in his arms once again, the burly dwarf’s own tears spilling from his eyes.  
Bofur was the last to walk up to Thorin, Nori close behind him, and he could see the sheen of tears in the thief's eyes. The minor slowly removed his hat from his head, stopping in front of Bilbo and Thorin’s bodies. With a sniffle, Bofur grabbed something from his pocket and handed it to Thorin, who barely registered his own hand reaching up to take whatever it was that Bofur was offering. He carefully held out his hand, and watched Bofur drop the small, cool, and very familiar bead into his open palm. Thorin stared at the bead for a second, recognizing the fine detail within the small silver circle, before his eyes began to widen in horror. It was the worst site to behold, second to his lifeless One, at seeing the courting bead he had gifted to his hobbit in his hand and not in the precious golden locks which he knew he had braided it into. Quickly-frantically he checked the hobbit to find the braid of intention he had done in his hair, but, with a sickening jolt, the braid was indeed gone.  
  
“Bilbo slipped that into my pocket before he climbed down the rope,” Bofur explained, his voice thick with emotion as he pulled out a small piece of paper from his other pocket, broken smile on his face. “Sneaky thing. He left a note for the both of us. One to tell me to give you the bead when you snapped out of the gold sickness, and the other was for you.” Bofur I was going to give you these back in Erebor, but I got caught up in the excitement of breaking down the gate, and . . ." Bofur paused, clearing his throat. "I had hoped,” his voice broke, and Bofur struggled to keep his deep sorrow at bay, “that I would be able to give it back to Bilbo, so he could give it to you.” Thorin carefully took the note, his entire body numb at this new knowledge. Thorin would notice the elegant handwriting on the piece of parchment anywhere, and it pained him to think that his Bilbo would never be able to write the wonderful books he had told Thorin about.  
“I’m really sorry, Thorin,” Bofur told him earnestly, his voice as loud as a whisper. “He loved you, more than anyone, more than life.” Thorin shut his eyes, nodding his head, and looking down at the crumbled piece of paper in his hand. Bofur stood, and walked over to Nori who took him into his embrace as Bofur mourned the loss of his friend. Ever so slowly, Thorin opened the letter and read.  
  
Thorin,  
I know I am probably the last person you would like to hear from, but you will hear from me nonetheless. . .unless of course you rip this letter apart, which means you won't be hearing from me. . . Well, if you are still reading this, then that means you WILL hear from me, so. . .there.  
Thorin, I pray that you will wake from the gold sickness before I have someone-most likely Bofur-give you this letter, but in case you do not, I want you to know that I am sorry. Sorry for going to the elves and men, though if it saves your life then I’m not sorry.  
If you do anything rash, which I hope you don’t, I forgive you, you dunderhead. I will forever be yours, but, Thorin, it is hard to have to compete with something so cold like gold. Something so dead, and, in the end, entirely worthless compared to your friends, your family, the people you LOVE!  
I give you back your bead, not because I don’t love you, or think deep down you love me any less, but I will not be pushed to the side, only to wait and be called upon when your gold does not satisfy you fully.  
Thorin I took my braid out the day Smaug fell, in hopes that you’d notice because you had already changed by then, and many times I ran into you, but you we’re so consumed in your gold and finding the Arkenstone that you didn’t notice it. You didn't notice me! Your sight was clouded, and do you know how badly it hurt? To watch the one you love slip away right in front of you? To know that you can’t do anything to help them out of this sickness unless it’s gambling something that they value above you?!  
I will wait for the day you come to me as the Thorin I fell in love with. The Thorin Oakenshield that I fell in love with on this suicidal adventure where I faced orcs, spiders, rude elves and men, and a blasted dragon all for him. I will be ready and waiting for you to rebraid that bead into my hair. That is, of course, if you ever feel that way about me again.  
Just know. . .I LOVE you, Thorin Oakenshield. I didn’t know that you were my dream till I had mine, that very night we shared together in Laketown. I love you, and I always will. I will wait for you, for as long as it takes you to come back to me.  
But, do hurry. I miss you.  
  
Love, Bilbo  
  
P.S. I am sorry about the Arkenstone. I know it was a selfish act, but I just want you to be safe.  
  
Thorin was grateful he had been able to finish the letter before his vision completely blurred. He gently placed the letter into his pocket ignoring the wet splotches that now littered the piece of parchment, and sobbed, a loud and wretched noise that came from within his very sole as he reached for strands of Bilbo’s hair. He redid the braid, sliding his bead into place at the end with shaky fingers before tying it off. Thorin looked down at his hobbit, and the anger and sorrow began to build inside of him again, threatening to spill over.  
  
_It wasn’t selfish! He couldn’t help but think. The blasted hobbit was trying to protect me._  
  
Thorin slammed his fist into the ice, lifting his head up to the sky.  
“It wasn’t selfish!” Thorin screamed as loud as he could towards the clouds. “Do you hear me?! It wasn’t his fault! Bring him back to me! Bring him BACK!” Thorin’s voice broke as he began to sob again. His sobs were harsh, ragged and so full of sorrow. He couldn’t even fathom that his hobbit, his One, his precious Bilbo, was gone.  
Choking on a sob, Thorin looked out amongst the rock and ice that surrounded them. In a whisper, Thorin looked down to his hobbit and continued to weep, saying pleading things to anything that would listen.  
“Please don’t leave me. You can’t be gone. Please. Please.” Thorin tensed at the hand on his shoulder, before giving up and leaning into the comforting hand of his friend though it did nothing to help him.  
  
“I’m so sorry, laddie,” Balin’s small voice was little to no comfort to Thorin. He felt so empty inside. So cold, and alone now. He felt like he was in agony, burning in a never ending fire that left his body numb and in pain. Sparing a glance at Balin, Thorin’s anguished whisper sounded like a shout over the silence that had settled.  
  
“Why does it hurt so much?” Thorin’s broken question had Balin glancing around the company, his eyes landing on Bofur and Nori, Bombur, Kíli, Dori, Glóin, and finally Dwalin and Ori. Every member who had found their One, Balin glances at with a wistful look, finally turning back to Thorin, and peering down at Bilbo in sympathy and sorrow.  
  
“Because it was real.” That was the last thing Thorin had wanted to hear. He struggled to keep back the wail that was rising in his throat, all but choking on it, instead breaking into heart wrenching sobs that wracked through his entire body.  
  
“Will it ever go away,” Thorin asked, practically begging Balin - who had lost his One in Moria when she had been fighting to get to Balin’s side- to tell him that the pain would eventually subside. When Balin’s expression did not change, Thorin wanted to run away from everything as he squeezed his eyes tight, letting even more tears spill over.  
  
“I won’t lie to you, Thorin,” Balin sighed, looking back at his younger brother who was comforting his One while he cried. “It doesn’t fully go away. Soon, you’ll just be numb, and you just get used to it.” Thorin had a new sense of respect for his friend, having to have dealt with this kind of pain for so long. He shook his head, turning back to brush his braid behind Bilbo’s adorable pointy ear, and his heart mourned for the adorable chuckle of his One when something brushed against his ear. His mind suddenly traveled back in time when they were in Laketown and he was with his hobbit in their room for the night.

 

**...oOo...**

  
  
“Thorin,” Bilbo giggled, pulling back from Thorin’s fingers that had brushed against the point of his ear while he was braiding his braid and bead into his hair. Thorin smiled at Bilbo, who was sitting on his lap. They were alone in a room provided by the Master of Laketown, listening to the others party outside.  
Thorin chuckled at his One’s giggles, as he brushed his fingers against the shell of his ear again as an experiment. He couldn’t help but smile at the wonderful result of Bilbo giggling again, shying away from his fingers.  
  
“I didn’t know you were ticklish there.” Thorin chuckled again at the scowl he received from the hobbit. His hobbit.  
  
“I am not ticklish anywhere,” Bilbo argued haughtily, sticking his little button nose up in the air. Thorin raised an eyebrow at him, smirking at the worried crease that appeared in Bilbo’s forehead.  
“What are you-”  
  
“So you say you’re not ticklish anywhere?” Bilbo started to scoot away from Thorin across the big, comfortable bed; but that didn't stop Thorin as he calmly crawled after him.  
  
“No. No, no, no, no, no. You-you get away. I will not be responsible for my actions, Thori-Thorin!” Bilbo squealed. Thorin was on top of him, his fingers at his sides, and tickling him mercilessly. “Ah! NO! Hahaha! You BASTARD!” Bilbo wheezed, laughing as he was tickled. Thorin chuckled along with him, smiling down at his One while he continued to laugh.  
“Thorin! Stop! Please! Haha!” Thorin finally conceded, moving his arms up to the sides of Bilbo’s face. Bilbo’s laugh slowly died away, leaving them both smiling at each other. Thorin couldn’t help running his hand down the side of Bilbo’s face, stopping to cup his cheek. He marveled at the way Bilbo leaned into his hand, closing his eyes with a small smile on his face. It was such a show of trust for Thorin that it was like he couldn’t help the next words to escape his lips.  
  
“I love you,” Thorin blurted, mentally punching himself in the face repeatedly at his own straightforwardness.  
Bilbo’s eyes snapped open at his declaration, finding Thorin’s. His little mouth parting in shock, and Thorin quickly tried to mend the nice moment they had been having before he had opened his mouth and ruined it.  
“I mean . . . you have ears.” Thorin wanted to hide in the deepest, darkest cave where no one could find him and he could slowly perish in embarrassment.  
"I mean,” he bumbled on, “of course you have ears - everyone has ears! I just like your ears better. They’re nice!” He paused to look at them. “Even if they are pointy,” he commented, and watched as Bilbo tilted his head a little with his brow raised questioningly, and Thorin realized just how the words he had said must have sounded. “Not that there's anything wrong with YOUR pointy ears! But you know how the elves have their dumb ears; but yours aren't nearly as pointy, and even if they were it wouldn't matter because they would be your ears, so automatically they are better."  
Bilbo gave a startled laugh, shaking his head fondly. Thorin groaned, looking away from his One ashamed, and was thinking of different ways to politely excuse himself so he could go jump into the lake, when a small hand tugged his beard.  
  
“Thorin, look at me.” Thorin slowly turned his head to fully face Bilbo, keeping his eyes locked on the collar of Bilbo’s shirt, almost too afraid to look at him full on.  
“Thorin.” Thorin finally met Bilbo’s eyes at that tone, and was stunned to find a soft smile on his lips. “You dunderhead.” Thorin’s mouth dropped open, speechless at the insult that was said so fondly. He was about to protest his displeasure at the slight, when soft lips silenced his. Thorin couldn't help but smile into it, pleasantly surprised by the kiss, and happy that he hadn't talked himself out of a not even five minute old courtship. When they pulled away, Bilbo began to play with Thorin's hair, his eyes seeming to be calculating something.  
“How do you know you love me? Not that I’m displeased by your proclamation,” Bilbo rushed, easing Thorin’s agitation at the question, “I’m actually . . . quite pleased, just curious.” Thorin couldn’t hold back his grin, and Bilbo’s tiny blush made him grin even more.  
  
“Well,” Thorin began, turning to fiddle with the braid in Bilbo’s hair. “When Mahal created the dwarves, he took our souls, and split them into two separate beings. When a dwarf finds their other half, they’ve found what we call their One. Every dwarf has a One, and the moment they see them, they know.” Bilbo smiled, then frowned.  
  
“If you know exactly who your ‘One’ is,” Bilbo began slowly, trying to make sense of his thoughts. “Why don’t you just go up to them, and be like, ‘Excuse me, my sweet dwarf,’” Bilbo acted, dropping his voice an octave lower than his norm, and startling a small laugh from Thorin. “‘You are my One, so let us go into the next room, and do the dance with no pants and live happily ever after.’” Bilbo wiggled his eyebrows seductively, thrusting his hips up a little. Thorin’s thunderous laugh was probably heard outside, and brought a grin to Bilbo’s face as the hobbit chuckled along with him.  
  
“I can’t believe you just said that!” Thorin roared, rolling off of Bilbo, and sitting up leaning his back against the headboard for the bed. Bilbo crawled on top of him immediately, straddling Thorin’s waist.  
  
“Well, it does make one wonder,” Bilbo argued, still smiling at Thorin while his laughter slowly died down. “I mean, if you can tell just by looking at them, then theoretically you should know right away whether they’re you’re One.” Thorin nodded, placing his hands on Bilbo’s thighs with a sad sigh.  
  
“As true as that should be, some have unfortunately found that though they believe they have found their One, their supposed One might not feel the same for them. So, that would be like if Nori had gone up to Bofur professing his love, and Bofur had told him he actually had feelings for . . .oh, let’s say . . .Bofur had said he found his One in-”  
  
“Me?” Bilbo offered, trying be helpful, but his helpfulness only made Thorin glare at Bilbo.  
  
“Don’t even joke about that.” Bilbo made a small noise, nodding his head in understanding. “It would be more like Bofur saying he liked Ori. You’re never sure if the person you think is your One, feels the same about you. It’s heartbreaking, to be rejected by your One, and it does unfortunately happen. Though we think a person to be our One, we are not as smart as Mahal, who knows all, and sometimes get confused, almost to the point where we only think and see what we want to. So, most of us, tend to not engage right away when we believe we have found our One.” Bilbo frowned, his cute little eyebrows furrowing in the center. Bilbo’s face smoothed out as a thought seemed to cross his mind.  
“What is on your mind, ghivashel?” Bilbo’s nose twitched in a way that made Thorin’s insides flutter. Bilbo looked suddenly nervous, avoiding Thorin’s gaze.  
  
“Am I your . . .”  
  
“Are you my One?” Thorin finished for him, catching Bilbo’s eye before they darted away again. “Yes.” Bilbo inhaled deeply, smiling. He bit his lip nervously.  
  
“When did you - ”  
  
“The moment you opened your door.” Bilbo huffed a small laugh at his quick response. “I was just worried the entire time you were with us because first off, I didn’t truly know the extent of my feelings for you, second, I didn’t know if you felt the same once I did finally admit to myself the feelings I feel for you, and third,” Thorin said, his voice becoming thick with emotion as he stared into beautiful emerald eyes. “I didn’t know if I could keep you safe. It is one thing to be rejected by your One, but it is another to have your One perish. I couldn’t guarantee your safety,” Thorin whispered, brushing Bilbo’s curls to the side. “And I’m afraid in my fear, I became rash, and quite rude.” Bilbo nodded his head, making a noise of agreement, and earning a light jab in his side. The hobbit jumped slightly, giggling at Thorin who chuckled, before giving an exhausted sigh.  
“Then I thought you loved Bofur.” Bilbo burst into a fit of laughter, making Thorin annoyed at how funny his hobbit thought this was. “Bilbo, it’s not funny.” Bilbo wiped his eyes of his imaginary tears, still laughing like a little maniac.  
  
“It’s actually quite hilarious,” Bilbo argued, jabbing Thorin in his chest. “You were jealous of Bofur! Of all things, you were jealous! And of Bofur!” The very thought set Bilbo off again, and Thorin was getting a little fed up with his beloved hobbit.  
“Oh, you’re so silly.” Bilbo smiled down at Thorin, and Thorin felt all the irritation leave him in a breath. Thorin settled back into the mattress, placing his hands behind his head.  
  
“What about hobbits,” Thorin wondered. Bilbo settled on top of Thorin’s chest, placing his chin on his fists. “How do you know when you have fallen in love?”  
  
“Well, not everyone gets them, but Yavanna blessed a few to have a 'dream',” Bilbo explained. At Thorin’s face of distaste, Bilbo chuckled. “No, I mean. . .ugh. A hobbit can love their family and friends and things like that, but when it comes to partners things get different,” he explained pulling Thorin’s attention. “Now, hobbits can be very fond of someone, so fond it’s almost considered love. In fact, a lot of hobbits just marry the person they are fond of, because they don’t always get the dream.” Thorin cocked his head to the side, intrigued and confused.  
“But, those who do have a dream, are said to have seen themselves with their partner - who I guess, could be compared to a One,” Bilbo said with a little nod of his head. “Anyways, you are both doing something together in the love dreams, as we hobbits call them. It could be as simple as lying in your lovers arms outside beneath a blue sky, while they sing you to sleep.” Thorin smiled at the fond, faraway look Bilbo got while describing the dreams. “And sometimes, the dreams can even come true; but once you have the dream, you know you’ve found your love.”  
  
“That doesn’t seem very reliable,” Thorin commented after awhile, trying not to be demeaning of the hobbit’s culture and beliefs. “I mean you could have a dream about anyone. Dreams are strange things, ghivashel.” Bilbo shook his head, his lips still twerked up in a fond smile obviously showing that he hadn't been offended by Thorin’s bluntness.  
  
“No, these-these dreams, they’re different. When you dream, there’s a light around your love, so bright, so pure, and yet it’s more beautiful and radiant than the sun. And the moment you wake up,” Bilbo whispered, his voice soft and light like a cloud. “You have this burning desire to see them. Just to be assured, that they’re really real, and not just a dream.” Thorin couldn’t fight the urge to kiss his One any longer as he talked of these love dreams, and reveled in the smile it brought to both their lips. When they finally pulled apart, Thorin couldn't help but ask the biggest question on his mind.  
  
“Have you had one of these love dreams?”  
  
“No, and I most likely never will,” Bilbo rushed, shaking his curls about. “Very few hobbits get the love dreams anymore, and usually it's the Tooks or the Brandybucks,” he said with a sigh, a smile growing. “But, I have grown quite fond of someone on an adventure I’ve recently become apart of.”  
  
“Oh?” Thorin smirked, raising his eyebrow at the cheeky grin Bilbo gave him. “And who is this person? I might have to dispose of them.” Bilbo chuckled, running his fingers through Thorin’s hair.  
  
“I’ll give you a hint. He's a dwarf,” Bilbo teased, and Thorin couldn't help but feel his heart flutter at how adorable Bilbo was. “He has dark hair, is musically gifted, funny, charming, and absolutely handsome.” Thorin had to admit, that all sounded like him. “His name is” Bilbo said, leaning over to whisper in Thorin’s ear. “Bofur.”  
  
“I beg your pardon!” Bilbo’s head fell to Thorin’s shoulder, laughing uncontrollably. “You insufferable hobbit.” Bilbo chuckled, bopping Thorin’s nose with his finger.  
  
“At your service, sir.” Thorin shook his head fondly, repositioning them both to rest more comfortably on the bed. He pulled the covers over them, moving Bilbo flush against his chest, and wrapping his arms snug around the hobbit as he inhaled the sweet scent of his One.  
“Hey, Thorin?” Bilbo called, voice laden with sleep.  
  
“Yes, ghivashel,” Thorin asked through his yawn, reaching over Bilbo to blow out the candle. He settled back into the bed, snuggling with his One.  
  
“If we survive this,” Bilbo started, waking Thorin up at his sudden depressing thoughts, “can you promise me something?”  
  
“Depends on what it is.” Thorin could feel how tense Bilbo was, and Thorin felt quick to help relax his One in anyway he could.  
  
“Promise me that nothing will come between us.” Thorin nodded, but apparently that wasn't enough for Bilbo who quickly sat up on his knees to fully face Thorin, the soft moonlight from their window shining on Bilbo's face. Without warning, Bilbo held out his hand, his pinkie finger extended. Thorin just stared at him expectantly, not knowing what to do. Bilbo motioned his hand again towards Thorin. When he didn't move, Bilbo cocked his head to the side. "Aren't you going to make the promise?" Thorin started at that, for he most certainly did want to promise his hobbit, but didn't know what this was. He did nod though, so when Bilbo shook his hand with his pinkie still poised upwards, he finally winced.

"I'm afraid I don't know what this is," he admitted, motioning to Bilbo's hand. The hobbit made a startled noise of surprise.

"You mean you've never made a pinkie promise?" Thorin shook his head, and Bilbo gave a small shake of his head. "Well, we have to fix that RIGHT away." Thorin couldn't help but love his hobbit even more. "So, you take your hand, and stick your pinkie up, yes. Good," Bilbo praised when Thorin copied him. "And now, we wrap our pinkies together to show the promise being made," he explained as his digit hugged Thorin's. "Then we give one shake." Bilbo lifted their hands before bringing them down once. "And the promise is made!" Bilbo said merrily, smiling down at Thorin. "So, if you break the promise, I break your pinkie." Thorin started at that.

"What?!" he asked in amazement and a little bit of curiosity as Bilbo was never one to be into such violent acts. Bilbo nodded.

"It's a very serious matter," Bilbo explained in a tone that Thorin knew was completely sarcastic though his face was serious. "Because I don't like breaking pinkies, but if you break this promise, then I am bound by pinkie promise law that I must break your pinkie." Thorin couldn't help the surprised chuckle at his hobbit.

"'Pinkie promise law'?" he asked incredulously. Bilbo nodded his head solemnly.

"Tis a sad truth." Thorin laughed again, and this time Bilbo did let a small smile go. "No, but seriously. Pinkie promises are important. Like this," and he held out his hand, his pinkie stretched out again. "I promise to not steal your pipe-weed from your bag anymore." Thorin gawked at him.

"That was you?" Bilbo winced a little, before nodding his head. "But I totally scolded Nori, and then Fíli and Kíli when none of them confessed to taking it." Bilbo nodded again, holding up his pinkie a little higher with a small sheepish smile.

"I promise not to do it anymore." Thorin smirked at him, but grabbed his pinkie gently and they shook.

"And you told me you're not a burglar." Bilbo huffed at the teasing.

"I would hardly call taking pipe-weed from your pouch burglaring," he said. "Plus, I've replaced it with some stuff I bought earlier today, so it was more like borrowing then anything else." Thorin did smile at that, and then raised his own pinkie.

"I promise not to steal your pipe-weed anymore than too." Bilbo gasped in shock, before sharing a look with Thorin. The two burst into a fit of giggles, leaning into each other as they tried to control themselves. Bilbo grabbed his pinkie in his, still giggling as he shook their hands and nodded. Thorin motioned for him to lay back down and the hobbit did, snuggling back into Thorin, and the dwarf couldn't help but smile as he felt the body in front of him. Bilbo was practically asleep, and Thorin couldn’t help kissing his soft curls, sleep starting to take over him as well.

“When we survive Smaug,” Thorin whispered, determined to stay positive and promise his hobbit in a way that he knew, “nothing will be able to take you from me,” he vowed fiercely, feeling the hobbit's body slowly relax at his declaration, and it pleased Thorin probably a little too much; but to Thorin it showed him that Bilbo trusted his word, for why should he not? If there was something that came between him and his wonderful One, well, he hoped to have enough sense to shave off his beard and slap himself till he remembered that there was nothing in this world worth more than the wonderful Bilbo Baggins, whom Thorin had the privilege of holding in his arms at that very moment. At that thought, he hugged Bilbo closer to his chest. “Now, get some rest, beloved. Our real journey starts tomorrow.”  


**...oOo...**

 

Thorin felt his eyes burn with new pain at the memory, wanting so badly to have his One alive like he should be. Thorin had broken his promise, twice. He had allowed himself to be ensnared by the gold lust, letting gold and the arkenstone come between them. And then, Thorin wasn't able to stop death from separating them. He would have to let Bilbo break both his pinkies, but Bilbo would never be able to do that now. The pain of this new knowledge was almost enough to send Thorin into another tearful rage as he stared helplessly at the sky.  
“Mahal. Yavanna. Anyone who can help, just please,” he begged. “Please help him. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t his fault.” Thorin leaned down to press his and Bilbo’s foreheads together. “Bilbo, I. . .I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry” They stayed like that, Thorin embracing his One as apologies poured from his mouth like the tears from his eyes. Thorin looked back up at the sky, loathing the way it was still a nice day with the light grey clouds overhead.  
Bilbo loved days like these.  
Thorin glared at the clouds with the best Durin’s glare he could muster. The pain was overwhelming.  
“It’s not his fault,” he growled, voice dangerously low. “Please, I’ll do anything. Give anything. Just, please,” he begged staring down at Bilbo, then up at the sky. Thorin didn’t know what he was waiting for, but when it didn’t come, Thorin grew desperate.  
“Please!” Thorin pleaded, his voice building into the massive roar it was. Thorin finally felt the fight run out of him as he slumped to the ground, careful of the priceless cargo in his hands.  
“Please,” Thorin whispered, begging to no one. “Help him.” Thorin was hunched over his beloved's face, his hair shielding them both from the terrible, and unfair world around them.  
"Please."  
The first thing Thorin felt, was the small tremor in the ground, and for a split second Thorin had feared the army had come back, when the shaking grew stronger. And stronger. And stronger. The rumble in the earth was more powerful than the footsteps of Smaug when he walked through Erebor, but this was a deeper, and mightier tremor, as if coming from the center of the earth.  
He could hear rocks fall from the crumbling buildings of Raven Hill as the ground shook, and hear the startled shouts of his friends as they were knocked off balance by the force.  
  
"Leoláin!" Fíli's feared cry had Thorin turning his head up to the last place he had seen the shield maiden.  
Hanging from the side of the cliff was Leoláin, a large boulder having crushed the massive horn and area she had been standing in not a few moments ago. The young girl clung to the wall as everything around them shook, her foot slipping so she now held on with one hand.  
"Hold on, Leoláin!"  
  
"Fíli!" Kíli cried, falling off the rock that he was sitting on with Fíli.  
  
"Kíli!" Fíli growled as he was dragged down with Thorin's youngest nephew. The other outraged cries from his company had Thorin looking as they all began to fall over to the ground from the still shaking earth. Thorin watched as everything around him continued to shake, gazing at one of the towers that crumbled to the ground, turning to dust.  
  
Like my heart, Thorin thought with a nod of his head. He looked down at his lifeless hobbit. His eyes glassy, empty of the light it once carried.  
  
"Thorin!" Dwalin shouted, falling to the ice with Ori, after a mighty shake. Across the lake, the rocks began to break apart with a thunderous crack. "We need to get out of 'ere! Now!" Dwalin suddenly was pushed from behind when Nori fell, accidentally running into Bombur. Bombur stumbled and tried to stay up, but ended up falling on Fíli instead.  
  
"AH!" Fíli screamed in pain, sitting up and clutching his hurt leg that Bombur had managed to land on. "Ugh, you stupid - get your ass off my leg!"  
  
"Get your leg out from under my ass!" The rocks across the lake continued to break apart, falling into the earth. One large piece of stone fell out onto the ice, releasing the water beneath it to flow over the broken pieces of ice. The ice cracked up halfway towards where Thorin and Bilbo were. Thorin didn't care, bending over his One to hopefully be with him. No matter how hard he tried, Thorin couldn't find it in him to move away from his spot.

_How can I leave him-how can I put him down?!_

Thorin looked up at the sound of what he thought were tree branches snapping. Up above, on the cold, hard ground, a large tree was sprouting from the dirt. The tree grew and grew, branching out into a beautiful oak tree.

_The type of tree Bilbo's acorn would have turned into. . . ._

Thorin felt fresh tears in his eyes at the thought, but were quickly wiped away at the astounding thing that began to happen . . .besides the tree popping out of the ground. The tree continued to grow bigger, a small door like structure forming at the trunk of the tree.  
The door swung out wide, letting out a smell of freshness that reminded Thorin of the little town he had stopped at in the beginning of his journey to pick up his supposed burglar. Thorin glared at the door in annoyance for reminding him again of his love, when out stepped a tiny, chubby creature.  
Her lime colored skin showed off the dark green veins in her body, that were almost moving? When Thorin glanced closer, he found that the veins were indeed swirling in a constant slow state. Her long, curly, dark green hair cascaded around her in a way that almost reminded Thorin of a very lush and vibrant bush. Little flowers littered the large curly mane, and she wore a crown of exotic flowers that seemed to hug her head just right.  
She had pointy ears like the hobbit below him, and huge feet with hair on them too. She wore a short, billowy, deep blue dress, that looked very elvish in Thorin's opinion, but fit her very nicely. Her big, dark brown eyes brought warmth and life to Thorin that he could not explain when he gazed upon them. The small being walked gracefully down the quaking rocks, not swaying or stumbling once. Thorin then saw how fresh grass and little flowers grew right where she was walking, creating a sturdy pathway of greenery just under her feet where she stepped.  
When the creature stood a few meters before them, she glanced from Bilbo to Thorin, pain crossing her face. She held her hand out to them, moving to help them. She had barely taken a step when she stilled in her movements, turning to the hole in the rock, and that's when Thorin noticed that the earth had gone still again. A giant rocky arm emerged from the hole. With some grunts, and groans, a big rock creature emerged. He was taller than Beorn, and as broad as the big bell in Erebor, the one Thorin and his friends had used to break down the barricade. He was entirely made of stone. His outfit that looked much like the garb a dwarf would wear, was intricately carved, and he had a hammer on his back. He had a mighty, rocky beard and hair that was partially hidden beneath his rock helmet. His eyes were the colors of a hot forge, and his whole being ranged in different shades of greys, and blacks.  
Thorin felt his mouth drop open at the sight of his maker, for who else could it be, and heard the agreeing shock of his companions behind him. Mahal rose one of his rock eyebrows in greeting, and Thorin was shocked at the eye-roll Mahal received by the green little creature whom Thorin could only assume was Yavanna.  
Mahal took one step off the rocks, tripped, and fell head first through the lake below him. Thorin, and his companions looked at the spot their maker had vanished into, the water spraying and sloshing everywhere.  
  
"Well," Nori said, grabbing everyone's attention. "You don't see that everyday." The tiny creature roared in laughter, pointing at the water while she held her stomach in her hysterics. Her laughter only grew at the sight of Mahal when he reappeared from the water, spitting up some inhaled water, and glaring at the tiny creature who walked closer to him.  
  
“I can’t believe you fell in!” the creature roared, her voice sweet and sounding like peaceful rain falling, but her laughter sounding as loud as trees being thrown around in a storm. She laughed and watched as Mahal began to step up out of the water. Thorin noticed how under Mahal’s feet, a rock way formed much like the smaller creatures green pathway. Mahal scowled at the creature as she continued to laugh.  
“You always did know how to make an entrance. HAHA!” Mahal stomped up to her, rock forming beneath every step he took.  
  
“Says you!” he barked, his voice low and gravelly. “Popping out of trees in the middle of places where trees look stupid.” The creature stopped laughing instantaneously, her face going serious.  
  
“Trees are never stupid, and besides I would rather come out of a tree than a hole,” she remarked, a smile growing on her face. “And at least I didn’t fall into the water!” The small creature was off again, laughing uncontrollably at Mahal.  
  
“Ugh! I don’t understand how I fell! I shouldn’t have even hit the water, with the rock that grows beneath me.” Mahal looked extremely put out as he gazed at his feet where rock had formed, creating a thick bed of rock on top of the ice. The other creature giggled.  
  
“The rocks form where you step with your _feet_ ," Yavanna said with a smirk. "You, fortunately, fell in head first.” Mahal growled as her giggles continued to fill the air. Grabbing his hammer from off his back, Mahal smashed it into the ice with a grunt. The lake was then covered in a solid layer of rock, and Thorin knew it would remain intact forever, even when the snow and ice melted in spring. With a satisfied hum, Mahal swung his hammer back onto his back and looked at the small creature.  
  
“Take that, Anna,” Mahal taunted, making a face at her. Yavanna rolled her eyes, still chuckling, and looked back to Thorin and Bilbo. Her face changed to one of sympathy and sadness. Mahal looked as well, his expression softening into deep sympathy for Thorin and utter horror. "Oh my cute couple," Mahal mourned, looking about as put out as the company members. No one could look as wrecked as Thorin was right now.  
  
“Child of Mahal,” Yavanna called out to Thorin, motioning towards the hobbit in Thorin's arms in question. “What has happened?” Before Thorin could respond, his friends stepped up and kneeled.  
  
“Hail Mahal, creator of the mighty race of dwarves,” Balin called out, the others repeating him. Mahal preened at the praise, standing taller in his spot.  
  
“Oh for Eru’s sake,” Yavanna groaned, placing her fingertips on her forehead.  
  
“Oh, come now, Anna,” Mahal said cheerfully, looking down at the dwarves in front of him. “Just because my children respect me, while your hobbits do nothing, doesn’t mean you have to get all salty.” Before Yavanna could protest, Thorin beat her to it.  
  
“Hobbits do not not do anything.” Mahal turned his attention to Thorin, his eyebrows raised in shock, and Thorin felt he needed to defend his statement. “Hobbits give thanks to Yavanna at every meal, and hold a harvest festival where they offer up a food sacrifice every year in her honor.” Mahal shrugged, a little sheepishly, while Yavanna nodded her head in approval.  
  
“Your name, young dwarf,” she asked, glancing down at Bilbo then back up at Thorin. With as best of a bow as he could muster sitting on the ground with a hobbit in his arms, Thorin leaned over and cleared his throat.  
  
“Thorin, son of Thraín, son of Thror.” She smiled, looking up at Erebor behind him.  
  
“King of Erebor?” Thorin solemnly nodded his head. Yavanna’s smile dropped along with Mahal’s and they glanced at each other.  
  
“My son,” Mahal called out, coming up to kneel a few paces in front of Thorin. “Why have you called upon us?”  
  
“My One has been wrongfully taken from me,” Thorin rushed, looking at his beloved hobbit. “He has done something that should only have given him a gash in the leg at most, yet you have taken him from me.” Thorin glared at Yavanna, all but accusing her of Bilbo’s death. “His acts were not selfish. They were noble, brave, and foolish at best.” Yavanna breathed a sigh of someone who was carrying a heavy burden.  
  
“I am sorry for your lose,” she said slowly, making Thorin hate her voice. “But, I cannot - ”  
  
“Is this about that blasted fairy nonsense?” Mahal demanded, rearing on Yavanna. The creator stood her ground, glaring back at Mahal in defiance.  
  
“No. This is about how a descendant of one of our fairies, went and broke the rule.” Mahal slouched forward, throwing his head up to face the sky.  
  
“I _hate_ that rule!” Yavanna scowled at him. “It was so stupid, especially on poor Selfless out of all of them!” Yavanna glowered up at Mahal.  
  
“How?”  
  
“That poor girl couldn’t do anything, but be others slave so she wouldn't break that blasted rule! I was surprised she was able to get married and have something good in her life, without being considered selfish for taking up too much happiness for herself!”  
  
“Well, she lived a pretty long life for most of our children!”  
  
“Yeah, but she died when she was in mourning, and one of your rock headed hobbits had to come ask her to do something, and she refused!” Mahal roared, making some of the dwarves back away in fear, Ori being the main one. The poor lad wasn't looking where he was going and tripped on a rock, falling to the ground, and landing on his wrist. With a hiss of pain, Ori clutched his hand to his chest gingerly, but he had already caught the attention of everyone as Dwalin ran to his One to check on him.  
“Are you okay?” Mahal asked, genuine concern lacing his voice, so different from his thunderous shouts from earlier, that Thorin had to glance back up at the creator to see if he was the same one who had just spoken. Mahal quickly glanced over the other dwarves, taking inventory over their injuries. With a wave of his hand, Thorin felt refreshed and healthy. Further inspection of himself led him to discover that his leg had been healed, and behind him he could hear the sounds of gratitude from his companions.  
  
“Thanks, Mahal,” Bofur said, rubbing at his head were a nasty gash had been. Mahal smiled down at them and nodded. Thorin looked to Yavanna, who stood still looking sour at her husband.  
  
“I beg of you," Thorin rasped, catching her attention, "please heal him.” Yavanna sighed, and shook her head.  
  
“You must understand,” she began, ruining Thorin’s hope. “You are not simply asking me to heal him. You are asking me to bring him back from the dead, which is an impossible thi-”  
  
“Don’t you say that,” Mahal scolded, wagging his finger at her in disapproval. “You know full well you can bring him back. It’s technically your fault he’s in this whole mess.” Yavanna scowled at him.  
  
“He committed a selfish act, therefore, he broke the rules-”  
  
“But he didn’t!” Thorin raged at her, and his voice wasn't the only one to be heard. He could hear Dwalin's thunderous shout, Fíli's and Kíli's voice backing him up and many of the others of the company though Thorin doubted they knew what they were shouting about, just knowing they were in favor of getting their hobbit back. Yavanna didn’t care about his sudden outburst, rather taking pity on him instead.  
  
“In your opinion, he did not.” Thorin glared at her. “I am sorry, but I cannot change - ”  
  
“Will you stop saying that?!” Everyone turned to Mahal, who looked like he was going to argue with her till she finally admitted she was wrong. “Just change the stupid rule, Anna, so none of this crap ever happens again!”  
  
“Fine!” Yavanna shouted, throwing her hands up in the air in a swooshing motion. “It is done! The rule is no more, but that does not change Bilbo’s state, for the rule was still valid while he was alive.”  
  
“But, please - ”  
  
“Just bring him back, Anna,” Mahal interrupted Thorin, looking tired by the entire ordeal. Yavanna growled at him, punching him in the arm. Mahal made a small pained noise, gingerly rubbing at his arm with a pout.  
  
"Why don't you do it?" she demanded, glaring at him as if he was the owner of the worst kept garden ever in existence. Mahal frowned.

"You know Eru took away my ability to do so," he grumbled. "He said I wasn't following the rules."

"You weren't," Yavanna mumbled, looking at Mahal almost fondly. "You kept bringing anyone back who died and left their husband or wife still alive."

“Well it makes me sad when my children are sad and are crying to me,” Mahal said glumly. Yavanna shook her head, eyes landing on Bilbo and Thorin as she studied the two of them, slowly turning to fully face him. She growled with a shake of her head, glancing back at Mahal.

“You know there has to be a balance! I cannot bring him back, and leave everything uneven. There must be a life taken, for his to return. A heart for a heart, so to speak.” Mahal winced at the forgotten tidbit, scratching his head awkwardly.  
  
“Then take mine.” The company went in uproar at Thorin’s offer, but Thorin held his ground. “It was my life that should have been taken by Azog,” he growled, silencing everyone with his anger; but his anger was short lived in a single breath as his heart ache attacked him with a vengeance. He glanced at the hobbit before him in agony as his hand gently touched soft curls. “Not his,” he whispered, his voice still loud enough to hear it break. Mahal put his hand up to Thorin, silencing him with a sad understanding look.  
  
“You will not throw your life away like that, after your One has given his to keep you alive,” Mahal said. Thorin opened his mouth to protest, when Bofur stepped up to the two creators.  
  
“Take mine, Miss Yavanna,” Bofur said.  
  
“No!” Nori gasped in a horrified whisper, but it didn’t turn Bofur’s head. The thief made a dash to his One, but was stopped by Bombur and Bifur, who blocked his path with pained expressions. Nori gazed at the two in confusion, before looking up at his One’s back in terrible understanding.  
“Bofur?" he called in a shaky voice, trying to get his attention. When the miner still didn’t turn his back, Nori seemed to grow even more desperate. “Bofur? Bofur, please!”  
  
“Bofur, get back, now,” Thorin growled, not about to let a dear friend sacrifice his happiness with his One for him, even if it meant getting his Bilbo back. The pain he felt was something he didn’t wish on anyone, especially a friend. Bofur whipped around, his hat going a little crooked at his speed a ferocity.  
  
“You’re not the only one who cared for him!” the dwarf shouted, righting his hat. “He was my best friend!”  
  
“Enough!” Mahal bellowed, silencing them all. “Bofur, my son,” Mahal called, becoming the one at the end of a mighty glare. “I am proud of your courage to sacrifice yourself for you friend; but, think of what you would be putting your One through.” Bofur’s defiant look deflated ever so slowly, and when he finally stared back at Nori, he saw the way Nori looked absolutely heartbroken and pain flashed in Bofur’s eyes.  
Bofur made to move closer to him, but Nori wrenched himself out of Bombur and Bifur’s grasp, and stormed over to his older brother, keeping his back to everyone around him, but everyone could hear the small whimper from the thief. Mahal pouted at the couple, turning back to Yavanna who also looked on the pair in sadness.  
“Now look what you’ve done!” Mahal grumbled, waving his hands towards Bofur and Nori. “You’ve managed to muck up another of my pairings in less than an hour!” Yavanna huffed at his accusation.  
  
“That’s right, blame me for everything that goes wrong in your children's lives.” Mahal groaned in frustration.  
  
“I do not always blame you for things that go wrong, Yavanna! I just don’t see why you can’t just do it without the life?!”  
  
“There needs to be a balance,” Yavanna explained, sounding like she had been saying it for the whole conversation, which she had. “You not remembering that tiny detail is why Eru took away your privileges of giving life in the first place.” Mahal grumbled under his breath, before holding a hand out towards her.  
  
“Okay, wait,” he said, straining his head like he was listening for something. The company waited in silence. “Yep, an old man just died. Now bring him back.” Yavanna rubbed at her tired eyes.  
  
“You know that doesn’t count!”  
  
“And why not?!”  
  
“Do you see her, Kí?” Fíli whispered, catching Thorin’s attention from the fighting couple. Thorin saw Kíli shake his head, peering at the towers.  
  
“I don't have a good view . . .” Kíli trailed off, jumping on top of the rock he and Fíli occupied. Kíli's face grew anxious as he remained silent, staring at the crumbled towers.  
  
“What is it?” Fíli’s panicked voice caught the attention of the two bickering creators.  
  
“I see her hammer, but . . .” Kíli trailed off again. Fíli jumped up from his seat and began to run towards the towers.  
  
“Leoláin?!” Thorin heard the fear laced in his nephew’s shout.  
  
“You have two creators in front of you, boy,” Mahal said to Fíli, who was struggling to fight against the many hands that held him back from finding the missing shieldmaiden. “And, all you can do is call out for some girl?” But Mahal did not sound angry. On the contrary, he sounded almost like he was testing him, as if he was trying to see if Fíli’s intentions were good. Fíli whipped his head around to glare at Mahal.  
  
_Oh, no_ , Thorin thought, mentally smacking his hand against his forehead.  
  
“She is not some girl,” Fíli argued, slightly regaining control of his emotions. “Leoláin is a woman. A strong, shieldmaiden of the Iron Hills. So, forgive me, Makers, if I cry out to look for a friend, than immediately turn to you two as you sit here bickering.” Mahal reared back a little at the harsh tone Thorin's eldest had, and looked very confused by the sudden burst of anger even if he still overall seemed pleased. Yavanna simply smirked, eyeing Fíli with amusement.  
  
“Snappy, protective, and rude,” she commented, turning to gaze at Mahal. “I can see how you are their maker.” Mahal made a face at her, and Yavanna stuck her tongue out at him very mature like. Thorin watched them continue with their retaliations with unrestrained confusion.  
  
_It's like I am surrounded by children . . ._  
Thorin finally had enough when Mahal made a comment about how Yavanna’s feet seemed to have lost a bit of hair, and Yavanna created a tree branch in her hand and began to beat Mahal on the arm that he tried to use to defend himself.  
“Enough!” Both creators turned at the command, looking startled to be confronted in such a way by someone like Thorin. “You say you come here to help him,” he shouted, motioning to Bilbo, “Yet you stand here bickering and fighting like children. You both have done nothing but be selfish yourselves!” The two refused to meet Thorin’s eyes, looking in opposite directions from each other. Thorin sighed.  
“I understand you two have your different opinions on this matter,” Thorin said in a gentler tone. “But, I ask of you-I beg of you. Please,” he whispered. “Please, save him. If the only way to save him is to take a life, then take mine, but just. . .please.” There was a long moment of silence that seemed to be attempting to choke him as he waited for the Makers to speak, or move, or do something besides continue to glare in opposite directions and look like children who had just been chastised. Thorin was so engrossed in watching the two of them, that he didn’t see his nephew till Kíli stood in front of them all, a timid smile upon his face as he waved at Mahal and Yavanna.

“If I may,” he asked politely, catching their attention and for a moment he seemed to be startled that he had gotten their attention, almost losing his train of thought in the process. Thankfully, he cleared his throat, and motioned back to Thorin and Bilbo. “My Uncle Bilbo did not deserve this fate,” Kíli said matter of factly. “He acted selfishly only in the way that he didn’t want anyone he loved to die. Azog the Defiler? He deserved to die,” Kíli nodded his head in agreement, his scowl falling ever so slightly as he whispered, “but not Uncle Bilbo.” Mahal came up to kneel in front of Thorin's nephew, a gentle look on his face as he placed a hand on his shoulder.

“‘Deserved it’?” the maker asked, with a slightly pained look on his face, but Kíli nodded resolutely. “I dare agree with you, my son, but I must warn you,” Mahal said in a stronger tone, eyeing Kíli with a look. “Many that live deserve to die, and many that die deserve to live.” Everyone quickly glanced at Bilbo and Thorin heard Kíli’s breath hitch. “Can you give life to the ones who loose it?” Mahal asked. Thorin’s youngest nephew averted his gaze to his boots, shaking his head. “Then do not be too eager to take it from the ones that have it, my child, for even the very wise cannot see all ends,” Mahal advised. Kíli slowly nodded, taking a step back to stand by his brother, looking the slightest bit chastised for his words. “I understand why you would defend your kin, though,” Mahal said, turning back to Yavanna. "The hobbits of this world are quite remarkable." The company agreed, and Yavanna shook her head a little at the compliment. The two looked down at the hobbit on the ground, before cautiously looking at the other.  
“If anyone can save him without a life,” Mahal began, looking slightly defeated, “it’d be you, you wonderful smart ass.” Yavanna’s lips twitched up ever so slightly, before she nodded reluctantly. Her eyes began to grow wide with some thought, and she turned to Thorin.  
  
“I still require a payment,” she began, looking more sure of her thought every second. “My husband has asked me not to take anyone’s actual life, and I will respect his wishes.” Thorin grew hopeful, yet cautious of what the creator could ask for. “But, I am bound to the rules that my own Maker made for me, therefore, I shall instead take the Arkenstone, the heart of the mountain.”  
  
“Done,” Thorin said without a second thought. Mahal laughed joyfully, clapping his hands together and rubbing them in excitement.  
  
“That a boy!” he cheered, making Thorin feel like he did as a child when his father had been proud of him. “Haha, now!” he said, looking at Yavanna. “Why do you need that blasted stone?”  
  
“Balin and Dwalin, sons of Fundin, and Bifur, son of Befur” she called, ignoring Mahal for a moment. “Take the rams, and find Gandalf the Grey. Tell him to come up here with you, and bring the stone.” The three nodded their heads as one, and moved to the rams, Ori right behind Dwalin. Mahal smiled at the four as they walked by, a massive open mouth grin splitting across his face as he pointed at Dwalin and Ori when they passed. His Maker looked at Yavanna like what he was seeing was the cutest thing ever, and Thorin had to agree.  
“I ask you for the heart of the mountain for one reason,” Yavanna explained, glancing at the four rams as they trotted down the mountain, catching Thorin’s attention. “It symbolizes the life of the mountain, and the lives it has taken. It will be sufficient for the life I will need in order to create balance.” Thorin nodded his head, looking down at Bilbo with hope building inside him.  
  
“I apologize for interrupting,” Bofur called out, grabbing everyone’s attention. “But, when you take the 'life' of the mountain, does anything happen to the actual mountain, or is there just a little shakey-shake?” Nori gave a quick snort, making Bofur grin up at him with hope and hesitation in his gaze. Nori sighed before jerking his head to the side in a ‘come over here, you idiot’ kind of way. Bofur scrambled over to him at the invitation, looking at him with an apology written all over his face. Without any words, Nori nodded, slipping his hand into Bofur’s. Mahal clapped his hands in glee, watching the couple’s with pleasure.  
  
"Yes," he whispered, giddy as a young maiden who had found out her crush liked her back. "Ship, sailed!" Thorin shook his head in bewilderment, finding that Mahal reminded him of two very young nephews of his. Bofur’s question still remained, though, and had Thorin staring at Yavanna intently. The creator shook her head.  
  
“You’ll have to see.” Yavanna teased, smirking at Mahal who looked as confused as everyone else felt. Mahal just shrugged his shoulders and turned to the others.

“If she won’t tell us, then it's going to be good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's the first chapter! My goal is to finish this story by the end of this year, because I've got some things to do in RL but I also want to go somewhere with this story and I've gotta do a lot of fixing and stuff, but I hope you guys liked it!!
> 
> ALSO!!! I am so confused on who I want my precious Kíli to end up with. . .I need help haha, I'll make my own decision in the end, but I'd love to hear what you guys are thinking! Let me know in the comments below :)
> 
> LOVE YOU ALL!


End file.
